Independent Variable
by MantoDea
Summary: Completely gratuitous, and fluffy as kittens. Near and Linda decide to do some research, and discover that not all variables are predictable.


**AN: **My first ever fanfic of any description, fluffy as kittens. . I hope you like it!

"Honestly, I thought it made no sense at all," Linda said, scooting sideways to find a better angle. She flipped the pencil from behind her ear and began a rough sketch of the sprawling block castle Near was working on.

Near didn't look up. "Well it must make sense to someone. "

"Mr. James sure couldn't explain it. Shakespeare was probably just crazy."

"Hmm."

"Haven't you read Romeo and Juliet?"

"No," Near said, fiddling with a block and frowning at the tower he was working on. Perhaps he would crenellate this one.

"Well, these two people meet once and fall in love, even though they never really talk. Then the girl pretends to die because she's engaged to someone else, and the boy thinks she's dead and kills himself, and then she finds him dead and kills _her_self." Linda erased a line and redrew it.

"Sounds dramatic," Near said.

"Maybe they did it for the sex," Linda said cynically. "People do a lot of weird things because of sex."

"True."

The two worked in companionable silence for a little while, each musing over the oddities of the human race.

"It must really be something," said Linda thoughtfully after several minutes, "to affect people so strongly."

"Hmm." Near agreed. It was remarkable how many murder cases had to do with sexual jealousy and revenge. "Do some research. Psych section'll have something."

"Eh, I guess." Linda didn't much care for reading. Seeing and observing, like looking at this block castle as she drew it, was always so much clearer in her mind. It was difficult for her to construct something in her mind that she couldn't see. From what little she had observed of relationships, however, she doubted the few kids at Wammy's who she was aware were intimate when they thought no one was around wouldn't be exactly open to answering her questions, let alone letting her observe. In a place where personal information could be used against you in competition, people were close with their secrets.

Near, on the other hand, preferred a scientific approach: hypothesize, test, analyze, rehypothesize. "Run an experiment then," he suggested, shifting over to work on the next section of the castle.

Linda rolled her eyes. "Right, I'll introduce two people at a dance and see how long it takes them to kill themselves." She eyed her sketch critically. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. If I do an experiment, do you want to help?"

He looked up, amused. "What, have sex?"

She rubbed her chin with a smudged finger. "I don't think we actually have to have sex. And I don't know if that matters. This way we'll both learn something."

Near looked thoughtful. Sex education at Wammy's was limited mostly to puberty and anatomy. This could be an educational experience that would not present itself again; people were so strange about it. An opportunity to study human sensuality in a hands-on, yet scientific, logical way. Interesting.

"I could ask someone else if you're not comfortable," said Linda. "Nothing personal."

"No, the idea has merit," Near mused. "Let's try it."

"Ok."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"What do we do?" asked Near.

"I don't know," Linda admitted.

"Well, this is your experiment," he pointed out. "What are you trying to find out?"

"What about intimate contact initiates such strong feeling in people." She frowned. "Maybe this isn't a good idea. I don't want to end up killing myself or something stupid because of this."

Near thought about it, then shrugged. "We can stop whenever we want."

"Ok then. Well…hm. Kissing is sort of the defining romantic gesture, isn't it? So let's kiss."

"Ok."

They crawled to meet each other and sat facing, knees brushing each other's lightly. "Where are we aiming?" asked Near.

"Lips seems to be the tradition."

Another brief silence descended on them. "This is awkward," Near observed.

"Yeah," Linda agreed. "Let's just go for it."

The two leaned in toward each other, but their faces were still several inches apart when footsteps sounded from the hall. They jumped back right before Nanny Hailes looked into the room.

"Near, Linda, it's dinner time," she scolded. "You should be in the cafeteria."

"We were just on our way," said Near, his chest feeling rather tighter than usual. With a sidelong glance and grins that were perhaps slightly nervous, the pair got to their feet, Linda grabbing her pencil and sketchpad from the floor as they followed after Nanny Hailes. Near waited for his friend at the door and they dropped back a little, out of the nurse's hearing range.

"Somewhere less open might be better," he murmured.

Linda rolled her eyes in agreement.

-----

The janitors came to Wammy's only every other day, so the pair thought the janitor's closet on the second floor was probably the most private place they would find as long as they kept their voices down. The fit was a little tight, sitting on the floor squeezed between buckets and boxes of supplies, and their breathing seemed unnaturally loud, so close in the dark. Near and Linda adjusted themselves as silently as possible, letting their eyes adjust to the faint light that peeked in the crack under the door.

"Ok," said Linda. "Let's do some research." They leaned in.

"I think you're supposed to close your eyes," said Near. Linda was so close he could feel her breath on his face. "That's what they do on TV."

"What if we miss?"

Near frowned. "They never miss on TV. We could try both ways and see if it makes a difference."

"Let's do eyes open first just in case."

A few inches short he whispered, "This is too weird."

"I know," she whispered back. "I feel like we're staring at each other. It's creepy."

"We_are_ staring at each other," he pointed out. He was so close. She felt her pulse quickening slightly. Linda couldn't remember ever being this close to someone before. She said so.

"Me neither," said Near. "This must be why they close their eyes." He blinked. "Interesting."

"Yeah." She shifted slightly. "My back is getting stiff from sitting like this. Let's just do it eyes closed."

"Alright." Near squeezed his eyes shut and tentatively leaned forward, pursing his lips slightly. Meeting her was an unexpected warmth. They brushed slightly, and, confident that their aim had not been widely off, pressed together with a little more resolve.

They sat frozen like that for a moment, with several thoughts zipping through their heads; among them, that perhaps some communication regarding timing and what to do once they started might have been in order, that kissing was a little more difficult than it looked on TV, and wondering what the other was thinking. Linda's eyes fluttered open of their own accord to find Near's already staring at her, wide and uncertain.

It was more than either of them could take. They broke into giggles, relaxing back into comfortable positions.

"It must get easier with practice," Linda reasoned once she had regained herself.

"Yes," Near agreed. "I don't feel moved to suicide just yet."

That set them off again, stifling their laughter in their hands just in case they could be heard.

"Maybe if we were more comfortable," Near suggested when they could breathe again. "Leaning forward like that in this position is kind of weird."

"Ok…" Linda looked around the closet critically. "Maybe…here, shift a bit this way…now move your leg…and I'll come over this way—is it ok if I put my leg over yours? Ok…."

Once rearranged, they were much closer together. Although, Near pointed out to himself, that had been the point. The strange warm weight of Linda's leg slung over his own was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome as he had thought it might be.

Linda tucked her hair behind her ear in a businesslike way, taking note of and dismissing the little flutter that tickled in her stomach. "Ok," she said, "Let's plan this a little better…let's go for…three seconds seems long enough for a proper kiss, doesn't it?"

"Alright." They only had a fraction as far to lean this time. Near noted with interest the sensation of her leg shifting on his thigh, trying to relax a little as their lips met.

_One, two, three_, they thought together, then settled apart.

"Hm," said Near.

"It's not that it's bad," said Linda after a moment of thought. "It's not as exciting as I thought it might be though."

"Yeah." He reached up and curled a lock of hair around one finger. "Now what?"

Linda watched his hand thoughtfully, his white hair glimmering slightly even in the darkness. "Can I try that?"

"What?"

"Can I touch your hair?"

Near blinked, then dropped his hand, tilting his head toward her.

Gently she reached up and curled a silvery lock around one finger, then slowly pushed her fingers through his curls. He blinked again, slowly, surprised to find that it actually felt rather nice. "May I?" asked Near, and she nodded. A moment later his hand was tentatively touching her own brown hair.

"You have really soft hair," he commented.

"So do you."

"It must be the shampoo they give us."

"Strange," observed Linda. "I feel like I'm being petted like a cat or something, but it feels good."

"Mmhmm." Near felt muscles relaxing that he hadn't realized were tense as her hand threaded through his hair. "Maybe it helps to not be so tense. Five seconds?"

"Sure." Her fingers curled around the back of his head as they kissed again, then slid down and brushed inadvertently over the shell of his ear. The touch startled him pleasantly, and her stomach jumped slightly as his lips moved against hers. Near didn't open his eyes for a moment after they pulled back.

"It seems that multiple stimulus points and movement make something of a difference," he observed.

"Indeed." She settled forward a little as his hand came to rest on the back of her neck. "This is kind of fun," she commented, tracing a slender finger back up the edge of his ear.

Near blinked rapidly. "That feels really nice," he said, sounding surprised. "I did not expect that contact that was not explicitly intimate would be so…stimulating."

Linda agreed and leaned forward again. "Ten seconds?" she muttered against his lips, and his chest tightened. His other hand slid up to meet the first, twining back into her hair. With interest Linda noted distantly that it was becoming rather difficult to concentrate, but her hands didn't seem to consider that a hindrance as they slipped around his thin frame. Instead of breaking apart after ten seconds, Near turned his face to rest his cheek against hers, breathing deeply. "Your hair smells good too," he murmured.

"That shampoo really must be something special," she said, relaxing into the loose embrace. "Odd that Wammy's would consider that such a priority for burgeoning detectives."

The lighthearted comment reminded them suddenly why they were in the position they were in.

Near cleared his throat self-consciously and leaned back a little, but didn't take his arms from around her. "So then," he said coolly.

"So far we've figured out that closing your eyes is better while kissing, multiple points of contact and stimulus heightens sensation, relaxing makes it more enjoyable, and contact does not need to be overtly sexual to have an effect," said Linda in an equally calm tone, ticking off each item against his back.

"And it does seem to have an effect on mental function," Near observed. "Focus and reason seem to sort of escape the moment."

"Yes…the inspiration for Shakespeare's writing is perhaps explained, although not fully supported. Still, we're scratching the surface here."

"True."

They sat comfortably for a little while, their creative minds turned inward on musing over the experience and speculating silently over possibilities.

"How long have we been in here?" Linda asked suddenly.

------

No one seemed to have noticed them missing for half an afternoon; which was unsurprising, in retrospect, because both of them were fairly solitary, and it was not unusual for them to disappear either alone or occasionally together to play and draw respectively in some out-of-the-way corner of the orphanage. Neither of them were particularly trouble-makers, so the teachers and nannies didn't worry too much about their whereabouts.

The next day passed more or less normally, the janitor's closet being left to the janitors. Near and Linda had different classes for the most part and they never really sat together at meal times. If either of them wished it were otherwise they did a good job of hiding it, especially from themselves.

A day later found them reinstalled in their makeshift classroom. As did two days after that. And two days after that.

------

"—why they thought it was such a big deal, even if he _is_ so great at writing," said Mello as he strode down the corridor. Matt shambled along by his friend's side with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Matt shrugged eloquently. "What do you care? You're not even in that cla—" he began, when Mello stopped abruptly and threw up his hand to cut him off.

"Did you hear that?" he murmured, straw hair flicking over his face as he cocked his head.

Matt listened, not sure whether he was more irritated, amazed, or indifferent to the fact that Mello could completely tune out anything Matt said when he was riled but still catch a passing murmur that was apparently coming from the janitor's closet.

"Maybe it would work better if you put your hand here."

"Like this?"

"Ok, let's try that—"

Mello looked back at Matt with a fiendish grin. Matt rolled his eyes and shrugged. Apparently this was encouragement enough, and Mello yanked open the door.

Twin gasps of surprise rang out as the door banged open. Near and Linda sat tangled on the closet floor among the boxes of paper towels and cleaners, hair sticking up in odd directions and eyes brighter than usual. Linda's face flushed deep crimson and Near's drained of the little color it had gained during their activity.

Mello was torn between hysterical laughter and nausea. Matt grinned knowingly.

"Hello, Matt, Mello," said Near evenly, resisting the urge to snatch his hands away from Linda's waist.

"Hey," said Matt, still grinning.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Mello, recovering from his initial desire to barf and switching quickly into weirded-out shock.

"Studying," he replied coolly.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Matt chuckled, and Mello glared at him. The two in the closet didn't glare, exactly, but Linda's eyes narrowed and Near's hand twitched as though he wanted to put it to his hair and start twirling. Near making out with a girl in a closet had to be the funniest and most unexpected thing Matt had ever seen.

Mello didn't share Matt's amusement. "Is that supposed to be funny?" he asked, cocking a brow. "I wasn't aware robots had a sense of humor."

"You didn't know they made out in closets either," Matt pointed out.

"Shut up."

"We're doing an experiment," Linda explained calmly, her cheeks almost back to their normal color.

Mello snorted disgustedly. "With you two, I actually believe that's true. It's a lot more convincing than the argument that Near has an ounce of feeling. Trust you to take something passionate and try to reduce it to mathematics."

"Are you done yet?" asked Near.

"I don't even want to start!"

"Then do both yourselves and us a favor and go away," said Linda with a hint of testiness.

"I have no intention of staying! This is making me sick," Mello growled, and he slammed the door. Matt burst into laughter.

"Oh, come on," he said, shambling on again as Mello stomped down the hall. "You have to admit it's funny. And those two are so quiet, they're almost cute together."

"It was sickening!"

"What, that Near is making out with a girl and you're not?"

"Shut up!"

------

They waited as the footsteps faded away, blinking in the sudden darkness. Then Linda giggled.

"Honestly. Is there anything that _doesn't_ make him mad?"

Near didn't laugh. His arms were tense around her and his eyes were dropped.

"Oh, come on." Linda ran a hand through his hair. "Why do you always let him get to you?"

He shrugged moodily. "Just because I don't fly off the handle every five minutes doesn't make me a robot," he muttered, then bit his lip. He wasn't used to confiding in anyone. "It doesn't matter."

"I don't think he really thinks that. He just wants to find something about you to hate."

Near closed his eyes as the soft hand working through his hair began to sooth his jangled nerves. "I don't dislike Mello. He's just…" He sighed, resting his head on her shoulder. "Competitive. Who knows? If circumstances were different…." he trailed off.

"Well, you both want to be L," said Linda reasonably. "Doesn't the goal make it worth the sacrifices?"

"Yeah." He stroked her back lightly with one finger. "But _we_ get along. Competition doesn't have to make people enemies."

Her hand stilled in his hair. Near looked up.

"I don't want to be L," Linda whispered.

Near blinked. "What?"

"I don't want to be L," she repeated, averting her eyes. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't be sorry," he said, frowning.

"I haven't really told anyone, I—I don't want them to find out," she confessed. "I've been in other orphanages, and Wammy's is by far the nicest I've seen…and there are so many opportunities here…. I don't want to be a detective, I'd much rather paint."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting that," he murmured, settling back against her shoulder. What he didn't say was, _I'm glad you're here_. But she understood.

Her hand resumed playing with his curls, and his spine tingled. On impulse, which he told himself was really more of an idea for an experimental variable that included the element of surprise; he kissed the soft curve of her neck.

"Mmm," she said sleepily, so he did it again. "What's the book say next?" he whispered against her skin, placing another kiss slightly higher.

"I dunno," she said, fumbling with her spare hand for the book she had dropped when Mello had interrupted them so unexpectedly. It wasn't exactly a technical text, but they had discovered that the textbooks had little practical advice to give on the subject. Linda had managed to nick this useful source of information from the dresser of one of the older girls in her dormitory. Her skin buzzed as Near drew a final feathery kiss along her jaw line, then leaned to see the book in the dim light that came in under the door.

"We were on page…146," Linda muttered to herself. "Ok, here. '_Alex flicked his tongue playfully across her lush scarlet lips, which parted willingly before his daring advances with a soft moan._' Ugh, this is horribly written. '_Carmen pressed tightly against him, drawing him into her mouth with her own teasing tongue_…' Interesting."

"They put their tongues in each other's mouths?" repeated Near, not sure if he was disgusted or intrigued.

"I hope they brushed their teeth first," she commented, scanning the rest of the page and flipping it over. "Basically there seems to be a fair amount of licking and sucking going on…contact to lips, tongue, roof of mouth, gums…this is so weird…. Alright then." They sat up together. In their few days of experimentation they had become much more comfortable with each other, and there was no nervous jostling as Near cupped her cheek and the small of her back and she shifted forward a little in his lap. "Would you like to start?" she invited.

"Ok…let's start normally and go from there…."

The kiss was pleasant and gentle, which they had found they preferred. Linda deliberately relaxed her body as Near just barely pulled back. Blinking his eyes open for a split second to be sure of his aim, he lightly licked her lip. She parted her lips obligingly, wondering to herself how exactly one "drew someone into her mouth with her own teasing tongue". Helpful though the book was, it was terribly nontechnical.

Near wasn't sure what he was doing either, but he'd discovered that just going for it was a lot less awkward than hesitating. Meeting her again in a kiss, he opened his mouth and quested carefully into hers. Linda jumped a little as the tips of their tongues touched, opening her mouth a tad more to let him in, then swept her own tongue along the underside of his. He gasped involuntarily and she smiled against his mouth. There was an interesting feeling of gratified triumph in being able to rouse this sort of reaction out of someone, she observed, when Near traced a light finger up her spine to twirl the hair at the nape of her neck and all focus on clinical observation seemed to dissolve. The kiss deepened and she leaned into his chest, humming appreciatively as his other hand skated tantalizingly down her neck to stroke her collarbone. Impulsively she skipped a few paragraphs ahead in the book let her hands slide down and then back up underneath the soft fabric of his shirt, fingers skimming the contours of his cool bare skin.

Near jerked back and she stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry—"

Part of Near was saying insistently that perhaps this was a bad idea and they were rather losing sight of their objective, but most of him was concentrated on Linda's warm skin under his hand, the delightful electricity of her fingers on his back, and the strange coil of heat wrapping itself around his stomach, and that part carelessly told the first part to go stuff itself. "S'ok," he breathed before kissing her again.

The closet seemed suddenly hot, though not uncomfortably so. Linda's pulse pounded, their mingled breath loud in her ears, catching and gasping sporadically as they explored each other. They were actually pretty good at this for beginners, she thought dizzily as Near gently caught her bottom lip and sucked it lightly. It suddenly struck her how beautiful it would be to capture this side of Near in a drawing, hair tousled and skin flushed, gentle but somehow vulnerable.

He didn't think he had ever been so incredibly and viscerally _aware_ of his surroundings. Near liked to watch things, analyze them, predict what they would do. He found himself unable to predict the twinges of pleasure that sprang up in the wake of Linda's fingers, and somehow analyzing them seemed much less important than just taking the raw experience for what it was. Things he had never noticed, the tiny delicate curls at her temples, the dimpled curve of her chin, the angles of her thin shoulders, all seemed so much more real and uniquely _Linda_ to the touch.

The need for oxygen broke them apart for a moment, and he let his eyes flicker open, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes were so large and dark, he thought fuzzily, and a strange feeling stung his chest, a ping of alarm right on its heels. The same tremor was clear in her eyes.

"Maybe we should stop," she whispered.

"Yes." Near wanted very much to kiss her again. Instead he disentangled his hand from her hair as she pulled her hands out from under his shirt and rested them on her own legs.

"So," she said, breathing slowly to let her racing heart rate slow down. "That was interesting."

"Yes." Near stretched his back a little, willing himself to be rational and collected. He and Linda had been friends for over a year now. In a place where so few friends could be trusted, and in a situation of even simulated intimacy (although, he admitted to himself, that had definitely not been completely simulated for the past several minutes), a development of this nature was perhaps not entirely anomalous.

"Maybe there is something to it," Linda said. Her pride was a little wounded. It was a little annoying to discover that even people like she and Near were subject to the same pitfalls of irrationality as people like Carmen and Alex. She grinned, trying to dismiss the feeling. "An edifying experience. Thank you."

Near gave her a small, lopsided smile. "You too."

They reorganized themselves clinically, tugging clothing back into its proper place and smoothing down hair. Near listened at the door to make sure the coast was clear and they snuck back into the hall, snicking the door shut behind them.

"Romeo and Juliet still makes no sense," Linda commented a little critically. Near looked at her. "They had barely even met," she said.

His mouth twitched. "That's ok," he said dryly. "No need to shake things up with a double suicide."

Smiling shyly, she reached out and clasped his hand for a moment, then dropped it. His chest fluttered. He supposed that just because their experiment was over didn't mean they had to be.

----------

Please let me know what you think :)


End file.
